


What I Want

by VirginiaValor



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Ladybug, Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Villain Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-01-30 19:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiaValor/pseuds/VirginiaValor
Summary: When the greatest -and only- hero in Paris, Chat Noir, apprehended the villain Hawkmoth, it was one of the happiest days for all of the citizens of Paris. Then, Adrien Agreste went missing and Chat Noir turned his back on the city, wreaking havoc and destroying property. Two years later, one fateful night, Marinette Dupain-Cheng has the power to stop his reign of terror once and for all- but for a hefty price.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 18
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Selfless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169301) by [ghostgirl19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostgirl19/pseuds/ghostgirl19). 

> This idea is not originally mine. I wrote this based on a fic that I read a long time ago. I don’t believe it was ever finished, and the author may have deleted it because I can no longer find it anywhere, nor do I even remember the title. Either way, if the original author happens to find this and reaches out to me, I would be more than happy to collaborate to finish it or take it down if they so desire. On that note, I wish to honor the original story, yet tweak it at parts to incorporate more depth into the plot. Thank you for your time and patience, now enjoy the story!
> 
> Edit: Thanks to those who helped me find the original and its author. I have tagged them and hopefully they are notified and reach out. Either way, I'm so excited to take this fic to the end, I hope you all love it as much as I  
do!

The only fears a senior in high school should have are rejections from colleges and breaking curfew on school nights. However, this hasn’t been the case for my fellow students and me in the last couple of years. On top of the worry of the infamous black cat stalking around at night and demolishing parks, monuments, and streets, I can’t help to think of Adrien, my long-forgotten crush. 

With only a few months left of our high school experience, my heart aches to realize he had missed it all. Where was he now? Is he dead somewhere? Forgotten and rotting away? The police tried everything to track him down, but they eventually decided he had just run away. His father did go to jail for life, of course. It would never be easy for the son of the most hated and feared villain to live a normal life. 

“Marinette! Quit mumbling to yourself and pay attention to the-” Miss Bustier snaps before being interrupted by the dismissal bell. 

“I’m so sorry! I’ll get it together tomorrow,” I pack my bag quickly and head out the door, meeting with Alya and Nino on the way out. 

“Girl, we’re going to get our acceptance letters to our schools soon, so you don’t have to freak out and worry.” Alya smiles, slinging her arm through her boyfriend’s.

“It’s not about that… I was thinking about Adrien.” I mutter, twirling a strand of hair around my finger. 

Alya sighs. “It’s hard, but you really need to let it go, okay? Everyone else has…”

I halt at the bottom of the school’s steps, swiveling around to look at her with a glare. Before I can snap at her, Nino interjects, “How about we just cool down and get ice cream later, hmm? There’s a new kiosk near the Eiffel Tower that I heard is good. We’ll meet at seven or something, since Alya and I gotta watch our siblings until then, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys later.” 

An hour or so after dinner, I lazily make my way around town to the tallest monument in Paris, parking myself on a bench to watch the tourists and dog walkers that pass by. How could she say that? Sure, she means well, but did everyone else really just forget about him? We were all friends!

I sigh, rubbing the exhaustion of the day out of my eyes. Better to just not think about it.

Nino and Alya wave me over not long after and we settle in the grass with our cold treats in hand. 

It’s awkward until Alya speaks up, “I’m sorry about today. It crossed the line, but I just hate to see you wallowing like that when there’s just nothing you can do.”

I set me half eaten ice cream down and look at her with a reassuring smile. “I know. I’m sorry too, Alya. So did you guys play those dancing games again with the kids?”

Nino perks up, babbling about how big they’re siblings have gotten and how good at games Chris has gotten. We all laugh and banter, finishing our ice cream. Just as we begin the trek back home, police sirens become louder and louder, drawing closer to the tower.

“Chat Noir! Please make your way down with your hands up!” Officer Raincomprix booms into his megaphone. No one moves as we all look up to see the leather-clad villain dangle his feet over the top of the Eiffel Tower, laughing. 

“And what if I don’t?” He mutters something under his breath and I gasp as I see that he activated his cataclysm, bringing his hand close to the steel beams. 

“We beg you, Chat Noir! This is the image of all of Paris! You can’t do this! There must be something you want!” The mayor pleads, kneeling down onto his knees.

“What I want…” Chat begins, grinning wildly. Then, for just a second, I think I caught his eye and his sneer falters. Those bright green eyes send a shiver down my spine, and Chat Noir looks back toward the mayor, a new smile, somehow much warmer, appears on his face. “I want her.”

  
He leaps gracefully down the tower, using his pole to land on the ground. His gloved finger points directly at me, and I hear Alya gasp behind me. The ground sways beneath me, and all I hear are the words _ one week _ and the blood violently pounding in my ears before everything goes dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know I said I'd post within a week. I'm sorry!!!! Life. Ugh.  
Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

I stretch, blinking the sleep from my eyes as I turn and look around my room. I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed last night… wait.  _ Did I pass out?  _ The memories of last night flood back, and I have to swallow hard. 

My body shakes as I make my way down the stairs into the kitchen and living room area, where I find my parents, Alya, two police officers, and Mayor Bourgeois whispering intently on the couches.

“Maman? Papa?” The guests and my parents shift around to meet my eyes, and already I can tell what the topic of discussion is by the tears staining both my parents' cheeks. Alya stares at her hands, silently waiting on the couch.

“Come here, honey,” My mother says softly. I sit between her and Alya, shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of everyone. My best friend takes my hand in hers, closing her eyes tightly. I do the same. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I know this is a lot to consider, but we need your approval before moving forward,” one of the police officers clears his throat, continuing, “If you choose to stay and refuse Chat Noir’s proposal, that is fine. We will eventually be able to take him down and you do not need to worry about your and your family’s safety. However-”

“If you go with him, you will be the hero of Paris! Chat Noir has promised to leave the city alone so long as you comply.” The mayor exclaims, wringing his hands around the bottom of his suit jacket. 

My mother tenses next to me, raising her voice for the first time in years, “She won’t do this! This is ridiculous! You have no right to say that, and he has no right to take her!”

I slowly blink up at them. Everything was moving too fast, and I barely had time to keep up as the adults’ arguments went from a couple minutes to almost half an hour. Sure I’m scared, but I’ll be an adult in less than six months! It was time to make my own decisions, whether my parents like it or not. And whether I like it or not. I would do anything for my city and family. It was time for me to do the right thing- wasn’t this the right thing?

“Mom,” I announce, drawing everyone's attention to me. “I’ll go. The city needs this. We all need this.” I swallow, forcing myself to not shed any tears. _ I can do this. _

It’s silent for awhile, making me restless before my father brings me into a hug, Alya letting go. “It’s alright, sweetheart. This is ultimately your decision. We love you, honey.” I hug him back, and my mom joins in.

Mayor Bourgeois clears his throat, “Well, thank you Marinette. You will not be forgotten. We’re going to erect a statue in your honor.” He smiles at me, obviously relieved that the damage to Paris is finally coming to an end.

The officers and mayor walk toward the door, my parents accompanying them and murmerering quietly. 

Alya turns to me, grabbing my shoulders with such force that I gasp. “I’ll hide you, Marinette. We can leave right now!”

I exhale, pulling her in for a hug. “You know I can’t do that, Alya. I already made up my mind. Paris needs this.”

She shakes in my grasp, hiccuping as she tries to control her tears. “You don’t have to, he’ll hurt you. I can protect you, I can-”

She wails and I pet her hair. “Shh… I’ll be okay. Maybe he just needs some company? It has to be lonely being the most hated and feared person in all of France,” I chuckle lightly, hoping to ease the tension in our voices and bodies.

She leans away, but still holds my hand firmly in hers. “You know for a fact that that’s major bullshit. He’s going to use you, then he’s going to kill you.”

I rub the tears and swollenness out of my eyes, the best I can. She’s right. 

But what other choice did I have? He’ll just go back to destroying the city, maybe even tenfold now.

Despite the inevitable, I still hold hope that this could work out.  _ At the very least, there’ll be a statue of me _ , I think bitterly.

\--

The window lurches open, and I blink into the darkness of my room. I feel the bed dip, and I sit up, panic striking through me as I open my mouth to scream.

A hand clamps over my mouth just before, pinning me back to the bed. I stare straight into green cat-shaped eyes, blond hair falling around the mask and nearly touching my cheeks.

I close my eyes, too afraid to cry into the gloved hand. Chat noir has come for me, too early.  _ I’m not ready! I’m not ready, please! _

“Shh… I’m not going to hurt you. Just don’t scream,” he whispers. “Okay? Don’t scream, and I’ll take my hand away. Nod if you understand.”

I nod, keeping my eyes closed. He releases me, and I feel him sit back at the foot of the bed before I slowly prop myself up on the wall. 

“Are you alright? You fainted back at the park. Quite a scare,” he chuckled.

I peek from under my eyelashes, making no movements as he seemingly waits for a response. I nod again.

“Good to hear,” he exhales.

Was he serious?  _ The _ Chat Noir, worried over her wellbeing? This had to be a dream… or a nightmare.

“So… you decided? You’re coming with me?”

“Yes,” I whisper, regaining my voice a bit.

He hums in reply. “You have the rest of the week to say your goodbyes. And pack a few belongings, but not much, since I have everything else taken care of.”

I keep quiet, focusing my attention on anything else in the room except the villain.

He sighs. “Look, I promise I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t dream of it. Once you’re with me, you’ll have everything you could ever want and need. You don’t have to worry, I promise. And I promise I won’t hurt you.”

I nearly laugh, shutting my eyes again so I didn’t have to look at those sickly green eyes. A promise? To never hurt me? And what, protect me? He promised the same to every single person in Paris years ago, but he didn’t keep it. He is a liar and a cheat- and a villain worst of all.

“You’ll give me what I want?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“Yes. Anything, princess.”

_ Princess?! _

“I want you to leave. Tell me whatever you need to then leave,” I glare at him, mustering as much anger and intimidation as I can.

There was something I couldn’t quite catch in his eyes, a flicker of hurt that I should’ve passed off, but it was there. Just as quickly as it came, it was replaced with a cold stare and a soft growl. 

“Fine. I’ll keep it short,” he shuffles over to the skylight, resting his hand on the sill. “You have until Saturday night. Midnight. Say goodbye, and come willingly. No screaming, no kicking, no fighting. Got it? See you soon.”

With that, he leaps out into the night, leaving me alone and frightened beyond compare. I melt down into my pillow and bedspread. I fall asleep to the sound of my own sobs. 

\--

Those final days went by too quickly, and I barely slept at all. I said goodbye to Alya and Nino and the rest of the class. Even Chloe hugged me, whispering in my ear to “give that asshole hell” before she let go.

Now, I sit on the couch, counting down the last few hours I’ll ever spend in my own home. The movie my parents put in plays in the background, one of my favorites, but I don’t hear it. I think back to school this morning. My friends, my future plans. I think about Alya, Nino, the class. I think about Adrien.

Oh, the life I could have had with him! If I hadn’t been so anxious all the time, we could have been together long before he disappeared. And maybe he wouldn’t have…

But it was all for naught. Chat Noir would take me away, the dreams of starting a family and growing older with Adrien shattering further with every tick of the clock.

I pick at the loose string on my sock. Anything to take my mind off of the night -the years- to come.

“Marinette,” my mother turns to me, shutting the TV off and grasping my hands tightly. “There’s something we need to talk about before this… happens.” She looks away, pursing her lips. She searches the kitchen with her eyes, most likely for Papa so he won’t hear what I know she is about to say. 

“Chat Noir may want to do things to you, and I’m just going to say that it’ll hurt.” Tears fall onto our hands and I can’t tell if they’re hers or mine. She continues, “I’m so sorry, honey. This shouldn’t have to be something you go through, but this may be a reality you have to face. I’m so sorry, so so sorry. I-” She finally breaks down, and it’s my turn to try to comfort her. 

“It’s okay, Maman. I… I’m prepared for whatever will happen.” I can feel my burning tears break through their barrier and streak down my face. “I love you, Maman.”

She wails. “I love you, Marinette. No matter what happens, I love you. Papa and I both.”

We embrace each other for several minutes, the digital clock in the kitchen marking the time. 

11:00.

Finally, I hug both my parents tightly before going to my room, saying our last goodbyes and ‘I love you’s. They close the door, and I wait for my fate. 

As I shove my last few possessions into my backpack, a question finally crosses my mind:  _ Why me in the first place? _

I lie in bed, sniffing the sheets and trying desperately to engrain the smell into my memory. The question scares me, and I wish I hadn’t even thought about it in the first place. I nod off several times, squeezing the bag in my arms tighter before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

\--

I shoot up out of the covers, hearing a knock on the window. My heart pounds as I slowly peek over to see through the darkness. Glowing green eyes meet mine yet again, and I open the latch.

The figure reaches his hand out, his light and surprisingly calming voice calling out, “Are you ready?”

“Y- yes.” I barely squeak. I grab the backpack at the foot of my bed -I must have kicked it in my sleep- and grasp the gloved hand waiting for mine.

“That’s all you’re bringing?” He eyes my bag as he pulls me up onto the roof of the apartment. I only packed an extra change of clothes and toiletries, some photos of my family and friends, and my sketchbook. 

“It’s all I need,” I affirm, hoping there won’t be any more questions.

He smirks, wrapping his arm around my waist. I gasp and internally curse myself for letting it slip out. “Well that’s fine, I guess. Like I said, I brought in quite a bit for our new home, anyway.” 

I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but he leaps off the roof with me in tow, the words lost as we fly through the air. His steel rod retracts and extracts, propelling us through the city. Before I know it, we reach the outskirts of town, the lights of my home far behind. He drops to the ground, dragging me by the hand into an alley. I panic, tugging my hand away, but his grip becomes tighter. 

“Relax, I just can’t get us to where we’re going on foot alone.” Sure enough, Chat uses his free hand to remove a tarp from a shiny and sleek car. He releases his grip on my hand and opens the passenger door for me.

“I don’t understand.” I shuffle in hesitantly, peering up to look up at him as he closes the door. He walks over and sits in the driver’s seat, turning on the car.

“What don’t you understand? Do you think I’m gonna get us there on my own? I may be fit but I’m not unrealistic. Plus I thought you’d have more luggage or something.” He scoffs, putting the car into gear and driving out of the alley. 

I don’t want to ask  _ where _ he got the car. He probably stole it anyway, so I keep my mouth shut and stare out the window as apartment complexes turn into trees and pavement turns into gravel.

Judging by the car’s clock, it took roughly two hours for him to finally tell me we reached our destination. I dozed off halfway into the drive, and when I woke to his voice, and the car engine slowing, I looked up to see a mansion in the middle of a clearing.

“What the hell…” I begin, in awe of the house in front of me. He parked just outside of a four-door garage and stepped out of the car. I step out too, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“I would’ve gotten the door, ya know” Chat grumbles, opening the garage. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room so you can sleep. I’m sure you’re still tired. Then tomorrow I’ll show you around, okay?”

He led me through the door, turning on just a few lights in the entryway. The hall led to a massive modern kitchen, which opened up to a living room area and then a foyer with a split staircase. 

I follow up the stairs where he turns to the right-wing of the house, down a large hallway, then opens a door to the right. He motions for me to enter first and I slip past to peek inside. “If you don’t like the decor or anything, it can always change. I just figured you’d like this one better than some of the others.” He babbles, turning on the light.

The room is modern and white, trimmed pink with a king-sized bed and multiple floor-to-ceiling window drapes of the same color. It’s breathtaking and surprisingly my style. “It’ll do, I suppose,” I say with a smirk.

He nods. “The bathroom is over there and then it connects to the closet. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, he walks out and closes the door behind him.

I toss my stuff onto the middle of the floor and lock the door. After making sure there aren’t any cameras and that the windows do in fact lock, I stroll into the bathroom to inspect my face. “I look horrible,” I whine to myself, searching through the bathroom closet for anything to wash my face with. “Wow, he really did stock up.” Towel after towel, toothbrush after toothbrush, shampoo after shampoo, this place had everything. 

I grab some expensive brand of face wash and scrub the invisible grime off my skin, patting dry with a hand towel with an embroidered  _ M _ on it. _ Is it supposed to stand for Marinette? Or maybe the initial of the people he killed for this house...? _ I shutter as I sift through the drawers of the huge closet and throw on a pair of silk pajamas. I climb into the bed and turn off the light, and fall asleep, dreaming of green eyes and pink drapes, sharp teeth, and the letter M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a tad different than the original, but I'm trying to put my own spin on it and develop the plot a bit quicker and with more detail that the original author never got to. Either way, I would like to know if I should continue this way, or incorporate more ideas from the previous work. Let me know! And thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ:  
Hi, again! Yeah, I've been gone for wayyy too long, but that's over now!  
I can't promise I'll post the same time every week, but I intend to complete this fic and I hope you'll bear with me for when that happens.  
Also, PLEASE support the original author, ghostgirl19, by reading their fic. Not everything I put in this one is in sync with theirs, and their writing style is quite wonderful and entertaining. I recommend reading that one fully and then coming back to this one for a quick recap, some altered and/or added scenes, and further adaptation of that work. Again, I WILL be completing this work, so if you wish to find out how Selfless by ghostgirl19 ends, this is what I have in mind.  
Anyways, thank you so much for reading and all the support you guys give. It means a lot, truly!

The smell of bacon makes my mouth drool, and I sit up in the bed. I look around, the memories of last night becoming clearer. Anxiety pools in my stomach and I pull back the covers. My pajamas are still there and nothing is out of the ordinary. At least he didn't come in after I fell asleep and… did anything.

I brush my teeth and slip on a pair of jeans and a purple sweater, my old style of clothing distasteful and abandoned after the last few years. Too many memories.

The smell of fresh food wafting through the air makes my stomach growl. But was it safe out there, or better to stay in here? The question unnerves me. If he didn’t touch me last night, surely it was because he meant to keep his word on never hurting me.

But was it worth the risk? He was Chat Noir, after all. My stomach grumbles again.

I slowly walk down the stairs, trying to conjure up the memory of where the kitchen was.

“You’re up,” A voice calls from down the hall past the main foyer.  _ Ah _ . 

“Well it is almost noon. Figured there’d be food eventually and had to investigate.” I quip, turning the corner into the grand kitchen. 

Chat Noir laughs cheerily, a sound that makes my heart flutter with, um, nerves. “I made bacon and there’s croissants on the counter, if you’ll have a seat on the barstool.”

He turns around, a small smile on his face and tall cups of coffee in his hands. “Here.” He holds out one of the cups, and I take it as I sit down.

“Thanks,” I mumble. I stir in my seat, taking a few pieces of bacon and a fluffy pastry apprehensively. What if it’s poisoned? He may not have hurt me last night, but there’s still no stopping him if he decides now’s the time. I caught him looking at me, and I swallow my doubts.  _ Be brave, be brave… _ A bite of my breakfast coerces me to let out a sigh “Oh, that’s actually good.”

He raises an eyebrow and sips his coffee. “They better be if I want to impress a baker’s daughter.”

I choke on my bacon, but recover quickly with a subtle swig of coffee. “You want to impress me?”

He casts his eyes away from mine, a pink tint just visible under his stark black mask. “I want you to feel safe here,” He meets my gaze, stern expression now in place. “I want you to trust me.”

I swallow, squinting slightly. “It’ll take more than a decent cup of coffee and some fancy bread to get me to trust you,'' I blurt before I can stop myself. 

He sighs, setting his half drunk cup in the sink. “Come on, I’ll show you the house and you can get settled.” He stalks out of the room, saying nothing.

And just like that, he’s back to being cold and intimidating.

I take my dishes to the sink and follow him through the living room, down a hall made entirely of windows and blue-speckled glass. “Woah,” I say, admiring the architecture.

He stops not long after, opening a door at the end. “This is the greenhouse. I grow most of the fruits and vegetables I use here.” He doesn’t give me long to look or ask questions, as he already closed the door and walked out another.

“Hey!” I run to keep up and finally notice we’re outside. Gravel pathways and bushes of exotic plants keep us in line. I pause, looking around at the flowers and the tree line that seem to border the entire property. Possibly not a another house for miles. 

“Come on,” Chat calls, walking backwards leisurely to the far side of the garden. “So that was the East side of the estate, obviously. On this side is the indoor pool and workout room, which leads back into the mansion.” He chatters, leading through the respective rooms and areas. Game room, theater, library, laundry room, wine cellar. It’s too much to remember all at once, and it’s even bigger than I thought. 

He leads me to a room tucked across the hallway from the library, opening the door for me to see in.

“This one is for you.”

“For… me?”

I peek into the room, my eyes surely blown wide. Shelves piled high with fabrics of various colors and textures line the far walls, sewing supplies all placed neatly by an expensive and large sewing machine. To the left, by the floor to ceiling windows, stands several modeling and dress dummies.

“I didn’t know if you were still into designing or not, so I took a chance,” He waits in the doorway, twitching his foot nervously as if he was unsure he was invited in or not. “Do you like it?”

I stare at him, mouth nearly agape. “You… You’re being nice to me. Why?”

He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows beneath the mask coming together. “What do you mean?”

“You’re being a gentleman, you’re giving me all these things… are you not going to kill me?” I choke a little on the words, wiping my face as the tears gather on my upper cheeks. “Just get it over with!”

His ears droop a little, and he steps into the room. I take a step back. “Marinette… I thought this was obvious. I care about you too much to even think about that. I promise I’m not going to hurt you” He reaches out, running his gloved hand through my hair, and I flinch. “Everything here is yours. You have nothing to be afraid of, you’re safe.”

“What about your cataclysm?” I can’t help but ask. There’s no way I can trust his words alone, and his hands on me only remind me of how much power he holds in them when he means to destroy something. It rattles me to the bone.

“I would never use it on you. Hell, I’ve never used it on anyone.”

I peek over at the other hand still resting by his side, whispering, “I find that hard to believe. You could do it on accident, too.”

He sighs, moving his opposite hand up to brush my hair back behind my ear. “It can’t be done on accident, Princess. I have to summon it, and even then I wouldn’t use it on you.”

I look up at him, searching his eyes and taking in his words. Does he mean it? Can I actually trust him when he says he won’t hurt me?

I have always been naive to some people, too trusting and too eager to see the good in people. Should I do the same with the villain who haunted me and the two million other Parisians for the last few years? From what I’ve learned and what everyone has said about him, I shouldn’t. I will not make the same mistakes again.

I look down at the soft lavender rug beneath my feet, lightly pushing away from him. “I… I can’t trust your word. B-but I’ll try to understand.” Hopefully that’s enough of an answer to keep him at a distance and still not get hurt.

I see him nod in my peripheral vision, him slowly walking backwards toward the door. “Okay. Thank you. Oh, and one more thing,” I meet his gaze, but my head is still tilted down. “Don’t go down the opposite hall from yours, please. That’s the left wing. My room is that way.”

I’m a bit confused as to why he would tell me to simply stay away, but it’s not like I’ll go down there anyway. “Okay,” I say, noticing his black ears twitch on top of his head.

“Okay.” He shifts his weight on his heels and walks silently out the door.

I sigh, collecting my thoughts. “At least now I know there’s more to do than sit around and wallow in self-pity,” I think allowed, searching the room for nothing in particular. I’m too exhausted to start a project, so I pick up a book from the library and walk back to my room. 

\--

About two weeks pass by as we share meals and light conversation, but we surprisingly don’t interact outside of that. I enter any room he’s in, and he walks out without a word or glance my way. I don’t exactly know why, but it sends spikes of dread and anger up my back every time. I was careful enough to not put myself in danger the last time we had a serious conversation in the design room, but I can’t help but think I’m walking on a thin sheet of ice.

“How the hell are these things my size?” I mumble to my reflection, inspecting the green and white striped swimsuit on my body. “It’s creepy.” I hope he didn’t root around in my closet back when I was at home. 

I click my tongue and walk to the pool with a towel in hand, only taking two minutes to masterfully maneuver through the labyrinthine manor.

The pool shimmers, reflecting the sunlight outside and I let out a long breath. I haven’t been in the pool yet, much less any other since I was a child. I take off my denim shorts and jump into the deep end holding my nose. 

Papa taught me to swim at the gym’s pool when I was little, though the only things I mastered were free stroke and floating on the water. I bob up, swiping a hand through my hair to get it out of my face. 

I swim to the edge of the pool and prop my arm up. “I miss you, Papa,” I whisper into my arm. It had only been a couple weeks, but I had never been away from my family before. I don’t even remember a time when I didn’t sleep in my own home before all this happened. My eyes drift closed, the sound of water lapping up on the tiled edges of the pool calming my thoughts. I miss the smell of home, fresh baked goods and fabric softener. The way the light in my room met each corner and woke me up at the same time everyday. So many things I took for granted now that I know they’re gone forever. Chores, even. Hell, homework! I miss it all...

“Hey,” A voice calls from the balcony above the deep end. I look up to see Chat, and I furtively wipe some liquid from my cheeks, unsure whether it’s tears or pool water.

“Hi,” I mutter, pushing myself up out of the pool and twisting to sit on the edge. “You want to swim?”

“I can’t,” He states simply.

“You don’t know how to swim?”

“No, I just won’t swim with this on,” He moves his arm around, indicating his catsuit.

I shrug my shoulders, “Just change into swim trunks,” I say.  _ Why am I pushing this? _ I don’t care whether he swims with me or not. I don’t even think I want him to. I guess it’s just nice to talk to someone, albeit idle and meaningless.

“Well then, will you put a blindfold on?” 

I whip my head up, wide eyed and blushing in clear embarrassment. He laughs. “I mean I don’t want you to see me under the mask, Marinette. It’s nothing inappropriate.” 

I squint at him, crossing my arms. “And why should I not see what’s under the mask, hmm?”

He smirks, a light in his eye I can’t quite place. “Because you’ll be too stunned when you see my gorgeous face.” He laughs again, leaning over the railing to see my reaction more clearly.

I roll my eyes, not having any of it. “Whatever, Chat Noir. Swim or don’t swim, I’m done for the day anyway.” I get up from the poolside and wrap my towel around my body. “What’s for dinner?”

He hasn’t stopped laughing, but it’s brought down to a small chuckle. “What would you like?”

I smile up at him, remembering my old friend from years past for some reason. His smile reminds me too much of Adrien’s, though I’m sure my mind is just playing tricks on me. Something warm fills my heart just picturing him. Then a long forgotten memory creeps back up, one where he came over for dinner and we had one of my favorite comfort foods. His smile as he tasted our cooking set my skin on fire. “Is it too late for Cassoulet?”

His laughter stops, and he looks down quizzically. “Why Cassoulet?”

I blush and look away. “It’s just good. Do I need a reason?”

He pauses for a moment, thinking. “It’ll take an hour, can you wait until then?”

I nod and walk toward the pool exist. “Thanks, Chat.” I say, not bothering to wait for an answer as I head towards my room for a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for reading and putting up with me lol  
Have a good week, everyone!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> It's been too long, and I feel I have been a spacey and rather unfaithful author- for that I am so terribly sorry. Again, I intend to finish this work, but the times at which I post are still not set in stone. I need to figure out a schedule for myself and hope muse and motivation greet me with their presence lol maybe this whole quarantine thing gives me an excuse to write
> 
> Either way, next chapter! Woohoo!

_ There’s no way she didn’t think of that night _ , Adrien gathers as he takes the dish out of the oven.  _ Did she recognize me, maybe? _

“Mmm, it smells really good in here,” Marinette notes, coming up behind him to get a better whiff.

Adrien feels his neck redden and grabs the wine from the other side of the counter to avoid her gaze.

“Yeah, good thing I was going to make it soon anyway. I had most of the stuff prepared a few days ago.” He pops the cork out and fills two glasses of the deep crimson drink.

Marinette stares at him and clears her throat. “You- you were going to make it before…?” She trails off, grabbing her respective glass of wine before sitting at the table.

“I like the placement. You have all this pretty planned out.” She says into her glass, seeming to attempt a change in topic.

Adrien sets the Cassoulet down between them with an amused hum and grabs her bowl to fill it. “I can do it-” She starts.

“It’s okay,” Adrien states, setting hers down and filling his own before sitting across from her in the formal dining space. 

They eat in silence for what feels like hours to Adrien, and he opens his mouth to speak before Marinette beats him to the punch.

“My friend… I had a friend a long time ago who I ate this with once. He would help me study and then he’d eat dinner with my family. We helped my parents make this one night and… then a few days later he disappeared. It shouldn’t remind me of him but,” she swirls the glass around, looking off into space. “I guess… I just missed him is all.”

Adrien stares at her, almost dropping his spoon before wiping his mouth with a napkin and speaking. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Clearly not knowing what he was actually apologizing for, Marinette laughs lightly, “Oh it’s okay! You couldn’t have known. Well… you may have known him he was the, um… the son of, well… the villain you, uh, took down.”

“I remember.” She slowly brings her eyes up to meet his, her eyebrows coming together. “Were you two close?” He wants to know her side of the story, the bits he didn’t catch when he was a young teenager. All he could do back then was try not to trip over his own two feet in the home of the girl he had a  _ little _ crush on. Just a little one.

“I’d like to think so.” She glances down at her plate and moves to stand. “Thank you for dinner. If you’ll excuse me…”

She hesitantly takes her dishes to the sink, passing by his chair on the way. She doesn’t look at him, but there’s an expression on her face he catches, one of loss, confusion, and loneliness.

“Goodnight, Marinette.” Adrien solemnly whispers as she leaves. After she’s gone, he groans softly and rubs his gloved hand over his face. 

_ I’m so pathetic. _

What reason did he have to hide from her besides fear? Although, that excuse was extremely tempting- the look on her face when she finds out keeps him up at ridiculous hours of the night. He plays every situation in his head like an old grainy film, each ending in him regretting it. He can’t comprehend any scenario otherwise, one where she accepts the most hated man in all of Paris, a  _ monster _ , as her long-lost friend?

He scoffs, shaking his head and getting to his feet. The monster everyone thinks he is compares not to the man he already is. A disastrous and poor excuse for a person, a broken man who had no reason to live for years until a pretty girl from his past meets his eyes for just a  _ second _ .

He stripped her of her life and freedom all because he felt he deserved to feel again. Here she was, lonely but not alone, by his side but so out of reach, everything at her fingertips but the one thing she wanted. And he caused it. The ultimate betrayal from a ‘friend’.

_ It’s far better for her to only see Chat Noir _ , he tells himself.  _ Instead of discovering the disappointment I actually became. The person I no longer am. _

\--

I rub my palms over my thighs as I walk to my room, a nervous tick that has been with me for who knows how long. 

There was something in his eyes during dinner, something familiar and understanding. He seemed to really want a change, to be a kind person for once…

I shake my head as if to air out my thoughts and mind. I need to stop mistaking him for the boy I once knew, but he looks so much like him, and the Cassoulet?  _ Yeah, I’m going crazy. _

I collapse onto my bed, no energy left to do anything but slip my pants off and crawl under the duvet. I close my eyes, drifting off almost immediately.

_ “Papa! More, more!” My little hand reaches up for another macaron, but it’s pushed away lightly. _

_ “No, no, flower. They must cool. Then we put the ganache between them. See?” He squishes two from an earlier batch together, large hands gentle only with confections and his cherished wife and daughter. Handing the sweet to me, my mother lets out a sigh, though no irritation behind it. _

_ “She shouldn’t eat so many, Tom.” _

_ “Oh, my other precious sweet has come to bake too, hm?” My father teases, pecking her cheek before popping a macaron into her mouth. _

_ We laugh and eat the sweets, the sun slowly rising, the day beginning, the bakery opening, all bringing the family together. _

I wake to the sound of a whimper and a soaked pillow rubbing against my cheek. This only fuels the tears more, due to the realization of where I am now. That little girl is gone, that moment of happiness and family but a faint memory. My body aches, and I rightfully diagnose it as something deeper, a pain so ingrained into my heart and my mind that it comes out as something physical. I feel abandoned, lonesome, and desperately craving attention. I want it all to end.

The first two weeks felt like one of those dreams -or nightmares- where you wake up and forget everything. Where you’re only left with the feeling of something wrong, and like there’s no real danger. Like as soon as you open your eyes, you get out of bed and start the day.

But now my eyes are open. I am awake, and the nightmare hasn’t stopped, because it has become my new reality. 

I sit up, wrapping the sheets around my body and head over to the windows. The sky is bright, very similar to that day in my parents’ patisserie. I desperately want to refuse this new realization, the one where I am technically held captive by a villain, and go back to that day. Little Marinette’s worries were so slight and trivial in comparison, so childish and quaint. 

There was no way anyone could have foretold what would happen to me, but I wish they did. Maybe they couldn’t have stopped it, but at least told me, so I could live for the moment and be happy as long as possible.

Still staring out the window, I promise myself to never take my life for granted again. Every moment I will live, and every moment I will thrive.

For them. For little Marinette, and myself now, and every person in my past life-

A knock on the door startles me from my thoughts. “Just a minute,” I request weakly, wiping the tears and the last of the drowsiness from my eyes. I stride through the bathroom and into the closet, pulling on a pair of black joggers haphazardly strewn onto my floor. “Come in.”

The door to my bedroom opens and Chat steps in with a cup of hot chocolate. “I know it’s getting warm outside, but you know what they say, chocolate’s good for the soul… are you okay?” He babbles, shifting his weight from boot to boot. 

“I’m fine. Why?” I take the cup, smelling the contents within and I can’t help but smile just a little. Maman once taught me how to make her special thick hot chocolate, a memory I will now cherish and never forget. Maybe I should start writing all of this down? Like, my thoughts and my memories, and maybe letters to my loved ones (even though they’ll probably never get to read them), and everything I plan on living for from now on.

“It’s almost ten. You never really sleep in this late, besides the first night of you getting here.”

He slowly stalks around the room, seeming to take in his surroundings as if there was someone ready to strike behind a curtain.

I purse my lips, bracing myself for the reaction about to come. “I just really miss my family and friends. Could I maybe… write them some letters? I won’t tell them anything about where I am, I just need them to know I’m okay. I need to tell myself that they’re okay.” I breathe out, waiting for his answer. It couldn’t hurt to try, but I desperately don’t want to step too far.

He’s stopped pacing now, looking at me up and down. “You know you can leave anytime you want, right?”

I nearly dropped my mug, his words startled me so much.  _ Did I hear that right? _ “W-what?”

He moves to my dresser where I placed the few pictures of my family and friends I brought. His mouth is pulled into a taut line. “You can leave. Just know,” he faces me. “That if you do, I’ll go back to Paris, too. And it won’t be so pretty. Seems fair, yes?”

I swallow, taking in the implicit threat. I’m reminded of who the man before me really is: not a friend, not a housemate, not a dorky guy who can cook. Not Adrien. 

He’s a villain. 

“Please just let me send the letters.”

He nods. “Write them today and I’ll get them to your family tonight.”

My eyebrows rise, relief and shock washing over me. “Really? Thank you!” I laugh, surprising myself and him too.

“Yeah, well, you have to promise you won’t put anything about this place in those letters,” He says curtly.

“Then you need to promise you won’t read them,” I counter. 

He smirks, amused by my confident reply, I’m sure. “Fine. I won’t read them.” He gestures to the cup in my hand, saying, “enjoy the drink.” With that, he steps out, closing the door lightly behind him.

I sigh, my heart pounding excitedly. I all but sprint over to the desk in the far corner of the room, search through the drawers for pen and paper, and write the words I desperately needed to let out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you are well and healthy. This is a scary time for all of us, but we'll get through it.
> 
> Stay safe and have a good week! Love you!


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